


Copycat

by mentallydefectivepotato



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 11:00:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12431388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mentallydefectivepotato/pseuds/mentallydefectivepotato
Summary: Love: the answer and root of all his problems. What could a seemingly cold and uncaring French do for his beloved one?"Which one is your true self? Which is a mask?"





	Copycat

**Author's Note:**

> In this fic, the characters and their counterparts have somehow distinct personalities, but the same appearance.

He was the BLU spy: a man of few words and simple tastes, despite of his extravagant appearance. His clothes’ cold tones matched his personality, as he used to keep his emotions hidden and hardly talked to anybody. However, nobody would ever be able to say that he was bad at what he did: tricking people.

 

Many would call him a dirty snake, but it was no doubt that he was a professional at his job: even when their team’s defeat seemed obvious, he could trick the entire enemy team into thinking that he was their medic and then backstab each one of the REDs, turning the game completely. Although most of his team didn’t like him one bit because of his cold, distant personality, all of his companions respected him for his abilities and professionalism.

 

That’s why it would be unthinkable that he would, one day, fall in love with his enemy. How unfortunate it was, indeed. On the battlefield, his attention was dragged to the tall, lanky Australian dressed in red. He couldn’t concentrate on his job, he couldn’t think about anything else: the only thing in his mind was the RED sniper, regardless of where he was or what he was doing. But the two of them would never be able to stay together, and it wasn’t because they were on opposite teams.

 

It was because the sniper already loved someone else.

 

“ _Mon amour_ , how was your day? ~”

 

“Nothing unusual, just shot down some mongrels. By the way... thanks for helping me with that bloody BLU spook back then.”

 

“No worries, I’ve got your back”

 

“Not really happy to hear this from a spy.”

 

“Well, I’m just teasing you, bushman, don’t be mad. Now, don’t I deserve something for having saved you...?”

 

“Wot’re you doing, spook? Don’t get all cocky- H-hey…! Gah, fine, come here.”

 

The BLU secretly watched as the couple kissed lovingly, embracing each other inside the RED base’s living room. The sight of his doppelganger kissing his loved one annoyed him very much; after all, the RED spy was the reason for all the suffering in his life. Even that morning, while he was observing the RED sniper, that masked RED shot him and sent him right to respawn.

 

Irritated, the BLU spy went back to his base, walking in a fast pace to evade his teammates and get to his smoking room as soon as possible. His jealousy burned him inside out, he just wanted to kill that bastard who had stolen his beloved from him. Slamming the elegant mahogany door open, he entered the room and locked it, proceeding to throw himself on his crimson armchair.

 

“Why him, not me?! What is it that is so good about that imbecile? Is he better than me?”

 

The more the hopeless man questioned, the less answers he had and more pain and anger he felt. He wanted the RED sniper to love him, to kiss him, to embrace him tightly as he did to his counterpart. How painful it was being alone. If only… If only…

 

...If only the RED spy disappeared.

 

Yes, if that demon disappeared, he would be able to have the man who he adored so much all to himself and to himself only. Getting rid of the Frenchman should be easy, he would just have to sneak up inside the RED base at night and kill him in his sleep.

 

And that is what he did. Firstly, spy told his teammates he was going on a business trip, as an excuse, so he would be away for several weeks. Therefore, his colleagues wouldn’t be worried about his absence; they wouldn’t miss the Frenchman, anyway.

 

That night, while all the mercenaries were in a deep slumber, he entered the enemy spy’s bedroom. Fortunately, the man was alone and sleeping heavily, so, with a single, silent, skillful move, the BLU ended his life. Getting rid of the crime evidence wasn’t hard for a professional spy, of course.

 

It had all been going according to the plan.

 

As soon as the sun rose, the REDs were woken up by soldier’s unholy screams, as usual. They all brushed their teeth, got dressed and went to the dining room to have breakfast, which was prepared by engineer. The bacon and eggs laid down on the table in front of the mercenaries, but one of the nine chairs remained empty. This fact didn’t go unnoticed by sniper, who felt the absence of his lover:

 

“Where the bloody hell is the spook? He’s never late for-”

 

“Gentlemen.”

 

The entire team turned its attention to the interlocutor. It was true that the RED spy had never gotten late for breakfast, nor for anything else, for that matter. He was a very punctual man, so his lateness surprised everyone. To justify himself, the cocky French declared:

 

“Well, why are all of you so astonished? Can’t a man lose track of time sometimes? Moreover, I’m technically only 6 minutes late, so get back to your own business, won’t you?”

 

After hearing this, the mercenaries regretted getting worried about their colleague. To start with, most of them disliked him already, so they just went back to eating and didn’t question him. Sniper, however, persisted:

 

“You alright, mate? Never seen you get late all these years.” the Australian seemed concerned about his lover.

 

“How impolite of you, bushman. I just ended up oversleeping a bit, that’s all. How about you, _mon cher_ , have you slept well?” the other replied, trying to change the subject.

 

“Yeah, same as usual, I guess.” was the indifferent reply. Then, with a confused look, the man inquired: “...? You’re not wearing your cologne?”

 

The fake RED froze: the RED sniper had very keen senses, especially of smell, and he had forgotten to use the expensive cologne which his victim used to wear. He swallowed dry, but managed to recompose himself soon after:

 

“I didn’t wish to delay even more, so I decided to put it on after breakfast. My, how inquisitive you’re today. Why is that?”

 

“...Nothin’. Sorry, spook.” Apologizing, sniper kissed his boyfriend’s forehead and got up, placing his plate on the sink and leaving the room. Spy noticed by his lover’s actions that he felt guilty for questioning him so much. Soon after, the disguised mercenary also finished his meal, took his tableware to the sink and went back to “his” bedroom, where he had left a sheet of paper which contained the RED spy’s habits and schedule.

 

“Let’s see… lunch will be served around 12:30 am, so I shall be ready at twelve o'clock. After this, a battle will be held at 4:00 pm, on 2Fort. Lastly, dinner shall be served at 8:00 pm.”

As anticipated, the mercenaries had lunch together; the scout was being more annoying than ever and began a huge discussion with soldier and medic concerning what food they should eat at their meals and why broccoli was evil and shouldn’t exist. Soldier affirmed that they should only eat meat, while medic disapproved both their behaviors greatly. Spy didn’t give the fuss much attention, enjoying sniper’s presence close by his side: he just couldn’t take his eyes off from his beloved.

 

_“? Something strange on my face?”_

 

_“Don’t mind me, it’s nothing.”_

 

At the battle, Spy saved the Australian from a soldier twice and from a scout once. Rather shyly, the lanky bushman thanked his savior right before dinner, as they hadn’t had much time to interact during job. Although, over the day, some quick glances and smiles were shared on the battlefield while no one was looking. It made spy’s day worth the trouble.

 

_“You should pay more attention to your surroundings, bushman. You almost got killed just now”_

 

_“Sorry, spook. But I know you will come to save me when I need you.”_

 

_“*Sigh*… Just be more careful, please.”_

 

Over dinner the couple secretly held hands under the table while talking about each other’s days. The French still wasn’t used to have much social interaction, so he felt somewhat uncomfortable sitting at a table with all of his teammates and having meals together, but he would have to get used to it.

 

_“Not very talkative today, are you?”_

 

_“...I’m just tired, that’s all. Thank you for your concern, nevertheless.”_

 

_“You sure? Didn’t even touch your food yet.”_

 

_“I’m not very hungry.”_

 

_“Well, you’d better eat, or else there won’t be any food left.”_

 

_“I might... if you feed me.”_

 

And so, the days passed, calmly. In the first week, spy was still adjusting to his new life, but, as time went by, he got used more and more to the other’s personality. He learned how to be more talkative and eccentric, just like the RED, so that the others wouldn’t notice something was off.

 

_“...Bushman?”_

 

_“What?”_

 

_“You… love me, right? You would never leave me for anybody else, would you?”_

 

_“Pffff… What’re you talking about spook? You’re not acting like yourself.”_

 

_“I’m being serious. Please, answer my question.”_

 

_“Don’t worry, mate. You’ve always been and will always be the one and only RED spook for me. I wouldn’t ever change you for anyone else”_

 

_“...Yes, such a dumb question”_

 

The longer the liar kept his disguise, the closer his personality got to his counterpart’s. He could no longer recognize himself as the BLU spy; his mind had changed completely and it felt as if, since the start, he had always been the RED spy. Day by day, he went further and further from his original self and nor him nor anyone else would be able to say that he was lying. Finally, one day, looking at the mirror, he asked himself: Who am I? The answer came clearly and without a doubt. After all...

 

He was the RED spy: a very social man with extravagant tastes and a fancy appearance. His clothes’ vivid tones matched his personality, as he was an extrovert narcissist whose hobby was attending to social events and making influential acquaintances. Indeed, nobody would ever be able to say that he was bad at what he did: tricking people.

  


**_Extra:_ **

 

The RED Frenchman was in the attic, searching, just out of curiosity, through the former RED spy’s documents, which were kept in a safe. Well, if they were so well hidden, there must’ve been a reason, maybe something the other was trying to conceal: his identity. As a spy, he knew that was someone’s most important data, and now he had the chance to uncover the truth. He started reading the papers, eager for information. However, they were confusing and the message they conveyed was absurd.

 

Apparently, the former RED spy had once been a member of the BLU, too, just like himself. However, by mysterious means, he had been able to get to the other team. The Frenchman continued searching, thirsty for answers, and what he found was even more appalling: although the RED team’s secret files affirmed that there had only been one RED spy in that generation of mercenaries, that fact was a lie. Through a deeper investigation, he found out that all of the previous BLU spies had strangely disappeared, only to reappear as a fake RED spy. That could only mean one thing: the original RED spy had died long ago and now only existed as the many BLU spies who took his place over the time.

 

The masked French gasped; so, in the end, he wasn’t the only one to have that idea. But what did that mean? This sequence of odd events couldn’t be just a coincidence. No, such things don’t just happen. Perhaps it was a curse, or fate. But then, that could only mean one thing: he would be assassinated soon, and the current BLU spy, who filled his former position, would be the murderer.

 

With his breath uncontrolled and fast, he backed away from the safe, as if he could escape from the truth and pretend it didn’t exist; however, as he did so, he bumped into something right behind him, which made his muscles tense.

 

The RED stirred his head slowly, afraid of what it could be. His assumption was right: it was the BLU spy, who had come to claim his position. Said man now held up his butterfly knife, ready to stab his victim.

 

_“With my apologies.”_

 

* * *

 

 

_“Pffff… Late again? What’s happening to you, spook? I’ve been waiting you for half an hour! Forgot about our date?”_

 

_“...Of course I didn’t, forgive me. It seems I’ve lost track of time. Let’s go, shall we?”_


End file.
